


Lay It On The Line

by SeashellDestihell



Series: Renegade [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Sober Sex), Alternate Universe, Bottom!Cas, Drunk Sex, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Librarian Castiel, Librarian!Castiel, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Married Life, Musician Dean Winchester, rockstar dean winchester, rockstar!dean, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10533153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeashellDestihell/pseuds/SeashellDestihell
Summary: Dean and Castiel have been secretly married for months without getting the press involved, but one drunken night in a hotel leads to coming out in the most awkward way possible.





	

Dean wakes to a hangover so bad he it takes him several minutes to realize the pounding noise he hears is someone banging on the door and not inside his head.

“The fuck?” he grumbles, untangling himself from sheets, limbs, and half removed articles of clothing. He stumbles towards the hotel room door where a female voice he vaguely recognizes can be heard shouting through the wood.

“Open this door now, Winchester, or so help me God I will break it down.” Dean fumbles with the chain and jerks the door open.

“Billie, what the _fuck_?” he groans. Billie shoves her way into the room with an almost snarl. Dean bumps up against the wall and starts to shut it after her when Charlie catches it awkwardly and follows behind. She blushes the same color as her hair when she catches sight of Dean’s naked form and looks away immediately. Dean doesn’t know what he did, but if both the band’s publicist and social media manager are here at ass o’clock in the morning, it was probably pretty bad. He resists the urge to groan. And here he thought he’d been settling down in his old age.

“Put on some fucking pants.” Billie sounds pissed the fuck off and Dean’s sure she has a reason, but even if his head wasn’t pounding hard enough to make him see stars, he can’t currently remember a thing that happened last night. The dried crust of spunk on his stomach lets him know that he probably got laid, but it’s Cas lying passed out in his bed right now, so he doesn’t really see how that could be the problem. Charlie refuses to meet his eye, but she passes him a pair of boxers and a T-shirt from his suitcase as well as a bottle of Gatorade she brought with. Dean unscrews the cap and drinks half the bottle in one go while he watches Billie rifle through the crap on the night stand then the sheets to find his phone. It gets pocketed without a word. She glares at him when she turns back to Dean and finds him still undressed.

“Put. On. Your. Pants,” she hisses causing Dean to roll his eyes, but finally follow her instructions. He tosses the half empty Gatorade on the bed where it bounces and rolls until it bumps against Cas. Without sitting up or opening his eyes, Castiel takes it and downs the rest; meaning, of course, that half of it ends up on the sheets and not in his mouth. Considering last night was the first time Dean and Cas saw each other in months, it’s likely not like it’s the worst thing to happen on those sheets by a long shot, so neither of them pay it much mind. Judging on the state of the trashed room, they’re getting charged a cleaning fee anyway.

“Billie,” Castiel croaks, sounding half dead or totally sexy, Dean isn’t sure, “why are you here?”

“I’ll tell you why I’m here the minute you put your fucking dick away.” Castiel opens one eye to squint at her.

“I change my mind; I don’t need to know. Yell at Dean in the hall and leave me alone,” he says rolling over with finality. Billie snatches the comforter from across his shoulders.

“Oh no, you don’t. You’re at fault here, too.” Cas turns to look at Dean, who casts an equally confused look back.

“Me? What did I do?” Billie snaps her fingers at Charlie who drops the clothes she was bringing Castiel on top of him and scrambles to unlock her ipad. Castiel pulls on the proffered boxers—Dean’s, if the way they hug the meat of Castiel’s thighs is any indication—and watches with mounting trepidation as Charlie’s screen showcases a flashing, celebrity gossip rag’s webpage. Dean wearily scoots close enough to read the title: _Sex, Drugs, & Erotic Asphyxiation_.

Oh shit.

Yeah. This looks bad.

Billie laughs malevolently. “Just wait,” she tells them and clicks on a video in a separate window. The second it loads Dean closes his eyes in mortification. His and Cas’ heavy breathing can be heard while the camera struggles to focus. Finally, the hand holding it steadies and the camera focuses on Castiel’s torso.

 _“You like that?”_ _Dean can he heard asking. His voice is loud behind the camera. “Like when I touch you like that?” Cas keens. The camera is angled such that it catches the bob of Cas’ Adam’s apple and the jerk of his chin in and out of frame as he nods. Dean’s hand runs up Cas’ chest, thumb rubbing roughly against his nipple. Cas gasps and his hand darts out to wrap around Dean’s wrist. His hand clenches once, twice, then proceeds to drag Dean’s hand up to press against his throat. “Fuuuck,” Dean groans. Cas digs his nails into Dean’s forearm, making Dean reflexively press down harder. “Dirty angel,” Dean says and then the screen goes black._

The four of them sit in shocked silence for several seconds after the video ends.

“That—” Dean starts, but is quelled by a look from Billie.

“ _That_ ,” she mocks, “was posted to your very _public_ Instagram account at 3:30 this morning. Want to tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to share a video of you fucking my cousin with 40 million followers?” Dean feels like he might actually throw up. Flashes of last night as starting to come back to him. Dean came straight to the hotel after their final show where Cas had been waiting for him. He even remembers filming the video now, but for his life he can’t remember uploading it.

“Cas,” he croaks looking at his disconcerted husband, “oh God, Cas, I’m sorry.” Castiel blinks several times to clear his head.

“It’s fine, Dean,” he says. He frowns. “It’s not, um, it’s not still up, is it?” Shit. Dean hadn’t thought about that.

“Charlie has been working tirelessly all morning to get everything she can off the internet, but they keep popping up. There were 2 million views before we heard about it and managed to take the original post down.” Castiel nods, still looking a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. Dean sighs.

“OK. So we have a sex tape. Loads of celebrities have sex tapes. This one doesn’t even show actual sex.” Billie shakes her head.

“That’s not the worst part,” she informs. Scrolling through the article she draws their attention to several blurry stills from the video of Castiel’s hand on Dean’s wrist. There’s a little red circle drawn around Castiel’s wedding ring. _Homewrecker, Dean Winchester, and Mystery Male_ , the caption reads.

“Oh,” Dean breathes out.

He flops down onto the bed. Dean forgets when he’s back home, surrounded by friends and family, that things between him and Cas aren’t public knowledge. At first it was because it just didn’t come up—the paparazzi weren’t interested in Dean’s no-name librarian “friend”—and as things got more serious, they didn’t feel the need to correct the press. It was the most relaxed courtship Dean had had since the band’s first album went platinum, and he wasn’t in any hurry to change that. So when they got married in Vegas last year he just… never told anyone besides family. He had thought maybe it’d come up in a few years when they revisited the discussion on kids, but for now it didn’t seem important what US Weekly or TMZ wanted to think as long as Dean and Cas were happy.

“What,” Dean pauses to clear his throat, “what do we do?” Billie sighs and shakes her head. Charlie shuts the iPad screen off then tucks it back away.

“All we can do right now is wait for it to die down. You’re not the first celebrity adulterer—”

(“Hey! I’m not an adulterer!” Dean protests.)

“—so we’re hoping interest will die down with time. Thankfully you just wrapped the tour last night and don’t have to be seen anywhere in a while. My advice: stay in your house; don’t talk to the press.” Dean snorts. That’s _always_ Billie’s advice when it comes to him. Billie snaps her fingers in his face. “I’m not fucking around, Winchester. And I’m confiscating your cell phone for a week.”

“Dude! You can’t do that; I gotta call my mom and Sammy—shit, wait. I don’t want to talk to either of them for a week either.” Castiel rubs a soothing hand down Dean’s back.

“We’ll delete Instagram and Twitter off his phone,” Castiel offers, holding out his hand for Dean’s cell phone. She folds with an annoyed huff.

“You better. And from now on: no sex tapes recorded on Dean’s phone! He could be targeted for a hack. Do it on Cas’ phone or don’t do it at all.” Dean’s head is still in his hands so Castiel nods in response. Billie and Charlie make their way back out of the room avoiding the tossed about clothing and miscellaneous garbage that litters the floor.

“You, uh, might want to go home separately. The paparazzi are already everywhere,” Charlie offers on the way out. The door shuts softly behind them. Dean groans and flops down onto his back.

“This might be the worst day of my life,” Dean tells the ceiling tiles. Castiel snorts and tugs at the duvet until Dean gets the hint and wiggles underneath it.

“You’re not the one who just told 2 million people you like being choked during sex.” Castiel buries his head under Dean’s chin. “I’m not going to be able to look my coworkers in the eye on Monday.”

“Yeah well, they don’t know it was you.” Dean reaches over and slips his cell out of Cas’ hands. Hitting the power button does nothing; it must be dead.

“Can we go back to sleep and pretend this day never happened?” Castiel mumbles against Dean’s collar bone, sounding like he’s already two thirds of the way there. Dean reels him in so they’re pressed together from head to toe.

“I’ve never heard a sexier proposition in my life.” Dean presses a kiss to Castiel’s hair. He manages to plug his phone into the charger on the bedside table before falling asleep to the sound of Castiel’s relaxed breathing.

* * *

When Dean wakes again, the sun is shining low in the sky, through a crack in the curtains, and directly into his right eye.

“I think we missed checkout,” Castiel rumbles. Dean grunts in response.

“Worth it,” he says taking note of his diminished hangover headache. “God I could go for a fucking cheeseburger right now. Wanna hit In-N-Out on the way home?” Castiel hums.

“I’ll do it; I have the car,” Cas says giving Dean pause.

“Wha—we aren’t seriously going to leave separately are we?” he whines. He gets an unimpressed eyebrow raise in return. “C’mon Cas it can’t be that bad! I’m sure no one even cares.” Castiel reaches over to the side table to grab Dean’s cell and tug it off the charge cord. Dean picks it up and immediately blanches. “Sixty-seven missed calls!?!” His jaw literally drops as he scrolls through the list. At least nine are from Mary and another fifteen from Sam. He hopes to God most of the two hundred unread texts are from Sam, too.

“We’re fucked, aren’t we?” he whispers more to himself than to Cas.

“Completely fucked,” Castiel agrees.

* * *

Dean is upstairs in the bath when Castiel gets home over an hour later. He cracks one eye open when Castiel shakes the takeout in the doorway.

“Water’s still warm,” is all he has to say to have Cas dropping the bag onto the lip of the tub and stepping out of his jeans.  Castiel groans when he hits the water.

“I think we’re about ten years too old for… whatever we did last night,” Castiel says while settling down against Dean’s chest. Dean hums and passes Castiel a burger from the bag to unwrap. “Don’t tip it, there’s animal fries at the bottom.”

“ _Marry me,_ ” Dean moans. Castiel elbows him playfully to hide his blush. They eat in relative silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company, until Dean’s cell starts buzzing from the pocket of his jeans on the floor. Castiel crumples up his empty wrapper and tosses it into the bag.

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean whines when it becomes apparent that Castiel is going to answer it.

“It could be important,” he says and stretches out of the tub to get it.

“ _This_ ,” Dean says, pressing his partially erect cock against Castiel’s thigh, “could be important. That’s probably just Sam again. Don’t answer it.”

“Have you talked to him already?”

“No! Of course not. Like I want to hear what that brat has to say.” Castiel stifles a laugh and swipes to answer the call.

“Finally!” Sam’s voice rings out over the tinny speakers. Dean throws his head back with a groan. “Ew gross I’m not interrupting, am I?” Castiel snorts. Dean glares at him, but takes the phone when it’s offered and hits speaker.

“You wish, you pervert. What do you want?” Castiel passes Dean a forkful of fries over this shoulder as a reward.

“I’m the pervert?” Sam says with what is definitely a smile in his voice. “Last time I checked only one of us had invited 40 million people into their bedroom and it wasn’t me.”

“Did you just call me to gloat, because if so I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Actually I called earlier because I thought you got hacked or something—I was trying to help. When you didn’t return my calls, I talked to Charlie, though, so I know you’re just a big dumbass.” Castiel passes another forkful of fries over his shoulder to keep Dean’s mouth full enough to not respond to Sam’s taunts.

“It’s very kind of you to check in on us, Sam,” Castiel tells him instead.

“Oh! Cas is there,” Sam practically squeaks. Castiel casts a puzzled look at the phone, but Dean distracts him by motioning for more fries. “It’s, uh, it’s not… I mean of course I… hahahaha.” Castiel jerks his head towards the phone in confusion. His sudden movement causes a handful of grilled onions to slip from the fork onto Castiel’s shoulder.

“Sam— _oh!_ ” Castiel cuts off at the feeling of Dean’s tongue hot against his clavicle. Castiel tilts his head to the side so that Dean can continue to run it up along his throat. “ _Dean_.”

“Jesus Christ! I’m still here!” Sam’s voice sounds far away when Dean starts sucking a wet kiss to the bolt of Castiel’s jaw.

Dean turns his head just far enough to speak into the phone, “so go away,” then tosses it to the floor.

“Dean,” Castiel scolds, glancing in the direction it was tossed, but Dean fists a hand in his hair and tugs until Castiel moans and tilts his head again.

“S’okay. S’why I got an android,” he mumbles against Castiel’s skin.

“I hate you both so much!” Sam shouts and presumably hangs up. Castiel gasps when Dean tugs on his hair again.

“Ah, Dean,” he whines and writhes in place until he can feel Dean’s erection pressing into his back.

“Want you so bad, Cas,” Dean groans into his throat. He swivels his hips to rub up against Castiel.

“Dean, _yes,_ ” Castiel moans pressing back into him. He turns to look over his shoulder so that they can trade sloppy kisses, but it’s not enough. “Bed.” Dean hums, but keeps Castiel where he is with firm hands slipping down to hold onto both hip bones tightly.

“Kinda want you to ride me right here,” he says making Castiel squirm even more.

“Deeean. I want to kiss you.” Castiel tries to stand again and pants harshly when Dean keeps him still. He truly does want to kiss Dean, but he can’t deny that there’s something about being manhandled that really does it for him and Dean knows that. “Love you,” he moans and presses sloppy kisses to the side of Dean’s face while Dean continues thrusting lazily against his back, “Dean, I want you inside of me.” Dean takes a shaky breath at that.

“Yeah… yeah, babe, I want that, too.” Dean’s hand slides from Castiel’s hip down between their bodies to stroke his perineum.

“Ah… Dean…” Cas whimpers, “we need… bed— _lube_ —ah!” Castiel gasps as Dean’s finger eases inside him.

“Yeah... You might be right. Bedroom?” Dean asks against Castiel’s neck. His finger slides out at Castiel’s fervent nodding. “Don’t slip,” he cautions, earning a baleful glare from Castiel.

“You dick isn’t that amazing that it’s left me entirely braindead,” Castiel shoots back. With a laugh, Dean pulls the stopper to empty the tub and follows Castiel to their room.

“Dishes for a week says you’ll change your tune in ten minutes.” Castiel considers him from the doorway, naked and hard and dripping onto their carpet.

“Deal.”

Dean quickly closes the distance between them. He wastes no time walking Castiel back until his knees hit the bed and grabs the lube from the bedside table while Castiel scoots further up the mattress. As soon as he has it in his hand, he meets his husband at to the center of their California king. Cold liquid gets hastily rubbed between fingers to warm it, and then Dean’s hands are back where they had been in the bath.

“Always miss you so much when I’m gone,” Dean breathes against Castiel’s lips before pressing a hard kiss there while Dean’s fingers breach him. Castiel breaks the kiss to gasp, his hands scrambling to tear at the sheets. “Do you miss me too, baby?”

“Yes! Dean!”

“How much do you miss me, Cas?” Dean teases and slips in another finger. He scissors them and glides them lightly over Castiel’s prostate while he watches Castiel’s eyelids flutter.

“So much,” Castiel slurs, hips twitching.

“Yeah?”

“God yes! Right there!”

“You want it, Cas?” Dean purrs, slipping in a third finger. “Think you’re ready?”

“Stop fucking around,” Castiel grunts, hips grinding down onto Dean’s fingers. “Give it to me.”

“Give you what?” Dean presses his pinky against Castiel’s rim and Castiel’s eyes fly open in surprise. “You think you can take another finger?”

“I—I want—” Castiel swallows and blinks rapidly. “I want—”

“What’s that?”

“Your penis,” Castiel chokes out causing Dean to stop moving and _laugh_ of all things. Castiel growls at him. “Your dick. Your cock. Give it to me.” He whines when Dean removes his fingers to coat himself with more lube. “Don’t laugh,” he moans, but it just makes Dean’s chuckles turn into giggles.

“I can’t help it! You’re so fucking cute,” he says and lines himself up. “You ready, baby?” he asks, slipping the tip in. Castiel nods frantically, so he presses in bit by bit until his hips are pressed flush against Castiel.

_“Dean!”_

* * *

“Dean!”

“Dean! Over here!”

“Tell us about the mystery man!”

“Did you set out to ruin his marriage on purpose?”

“Dean, does his wife know about you two?”

“Did the band know about him?”

“Dean!”

“Dean!”

Dean ducks the paparazzi and darts back into his car with the last of the groceries. It’s been two weeks and he still can’t travel outside of his gated community without being hounded by questions about one stupid mistake of a video posting. To make matters worse, they’ve started asking the other guys in the band about it. It started out as wanting to keep something just for the two of them, but Dean’s genuinely worried now that telling everyone might cause Cas problems at work.

“The library has security guards, Dean,” Castiel tells him one night while they’re lying in bed. “And they’d be able to kick anyone out if they got too noisy.” Dean raises his eyebrows at that.

“So now you’re suddenly OK telling your coworkers what kind of dirty talk you like?” Castiel flushes a deep shade of red.

“Obviously that part won’t be fun, but I worry about you.” He cards his fingers through Dean’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp. “You can’t leave the neighborhood without being accused of terrible things.” Dean sighs.

“Let’s hold out a little longer, OK? Billie was so sure this would all blow over.” Castiel acquiesces with a sigh.

* * *

“The numbers are starting to take a hit,” Billie tells him over the phone.

“Hello to you, too,” Dean grumbles, but he casts a weary glance at Castiel.

“Don’t fuck around, Dean,” she chastises gently. “Look, I think this ignoring it thing isn’t going to work. At first we were losing and gaining fans at about the same pace, but it seems like the people hoping to get another post out of you are leaving, too. I’ve asked Bela Talbot for a spot on the show next week and she accepted.” Castiel surprises them both by being the one to interject.

“You’re joking.”

“Cas,” Dean doesn’t know if he manages to make himself sound chastising when he feels a secret thrill run through him at Castiel’s distaste.

“I’m not. You two can do the posturing and declaration of love later, but right now we need Bela. She’s promised to send over a list of her questions so that nothing surprises us. It’s a better deal than we deserve.”

“Yeah. Listen, thanks, Billie, we’ll talk about it, OK?” Billie grumbles something unflattering over the line and hangs up without saying goodbye.

“I don’t like Bela,” Castiel says like that’s new information.

“Babe,” Dean says with a sigh and presses kisses to Castiel’s temple. “Bela and I happened a long time ago. I promise she doesn’t want to get back together. It’s not weird.” Castiel doesn’t appear reassured.

* * *

“Dean, we’re so happy you could join us today, but you must know we have one more question for you,” Bela purrs causing Castiel to ball his fists up backstage in the green room where he watches on the monitor. He’s been tense the whole interview, but Bela had kept her promise and stayed in safe territory up until this point. Castiel has to admit she’s good and not overly cruel; he just wishes she wouldn’t look at his husband like she wants to eat him alive.

“Oh?” Dean asks, playing dumb like they’d discussed. Bela smirks and leans forward in her seat.

“Yes, about the mystery man everyone’s been talking about.” Dean sighs.

“Yeah.”

“Well? Don’t leave us hanging.”

“It’s…” Dean coughs and shuffles in his seat. “It’s kind of a long story.” Bela casts an expectant look at her audience, who she’s pleased to see look just as enraptured as she had hoped.

“We’ve got time, darling.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Start with the ring. Family heirloom? Random trinket? Don’t tell us that poor man’s actually married.”

“He, uh, he is…” Dean forces out. The crowd gasps—a few even boo—causing Dean to look up in surprise. “To me! He’s married to me.” The crowd really starts buzzing then, but they manage to shush themselves before Bela has to.

“Married to you? You mean the great Dean Winchester is no longer single?” Dean actually laughs at that.

“Nah. I haven’t been single for years now. We, uh, we got married last winter, though.” Bela casts Dean a practiced, skeptical look.

“I think we would have heard about _Dean Winchester_ getting married.”

“It was a spur of the moment thing in Vegas. We didn’t really plan it, but the band was there for the weekend, Cas came up because he’d never been before, and we figured, why not?” Dean laughs. “My mom really gave me hell for that.” The audience joins in on his laughter.

“You don’t wear a ring, though,” Bela prompts and Dean shakes his head.

“I’m terrible with rings. I used to wear a bunch back when the band was just starting out, but I kept taking them off and forgetting them all over the country.” Dean reaches under his collar to pull a chain out. The audience gasps when the ring at the end plops down over his heart. “I keep it here instead.” There’s murmuring through the crowd again and Dean knows some of it is probably due to diehard fans who had noticed the chain before. According to Charlie, there’s all kind of speculation on the message boards as to what might be at the end of it. Some of those fans are probably feeling pretty vindicated right now, he guesses.

“Well that’s all very well, but, no offense, darling, but how do we know you didn’t buy that ring for yourself and this isn’t some elaborate ruse to get us off your tail?” Castiel grits his teeth in the green room. He knows this is rehearsed, knows Bela doesn’t really think that and is only trying to put a stop to certain conspiracy theories before they’re allowed to thrive, but he can’t help feeling angry and offended at the very suggestion that Dean would be that duplicitous. Dean groans and looks to the audience for help.

“C’mon, you guys don’t really want to see my wedding photos, do you?” he demurs, but of course the crowd goes wild at the suggestion instead. Bela smirks and the first one goes up on the giant screen behind them. Dean looks and immediately covers his eyes with his hand and turns away. On the screen are Dean and Cas on their wedding day, posing ridiculously in front of a big neon sign for the chapel. Bela laughs and they switch to the next picture which gets a big “Aw!” from the crowd. It’s Dean and Cas sharing a tin of pie on the hood of the impala. Their ties are loosened and they’re both wearing their rings, so it’s clearly from after the ceremony.

“Who took these?” Bela asks softly like she’s actually as touched by the photos as the crowd seems to be; as Dean and Cas both are. The photo on the screen changes to one of Dean kissing Cas’ wedding ring and staring into his eyes.

“Benny,” Dean says smiling distractedly at the screen.

“Your drummer, Benny?”

“Yeah. He was our witness.” The crowd titters at that, probably rightly imagining how reluctant Benny was to do the job let alone take pictures. “He had to be bribed, but he’s the best at keeping secrets.”

“Why _did_ you keep it a secret, Dean?” Bela asks. The screen goes back to her logo and Dean sighs.

“Honestly? We wanted to keep it to ourselves. We didn’t want the media dissecting every second we were together. It felt… pure.” Bela nods along.

“It can be hard to date in the limelight.”

“Tell me about it. Everyone I dated before Cas… they were ripped apart by the media. Any time we were separated while on tour or filming we were ‘fighting’ or ‘broken up’ according to this magazine and that news segment. Every time we hung out with friends we were ‘cheating’. I didn’t want that for Cas. For one thing he’s not used to such scrutiny, but it’s also just plain cruel no matter who it happens to.”

“But now you’re out,” Bela says simply and Dean heaves a sigh.

“For better or for worse, right, Cas?” Dean teases, looking directly into one of the cameras. Castiel’s heart skips a beat.

“Forever,” he tells the Dean on the screen.

* * *

The interview goes over better than even Billie predicted it would. The video from Bela’s youtube channel gets over a million hits in a matter of days and it’s fine as long as Dean doesn’t start reading the comments. Dean and the band’s Instagram and twitter pages start steadily gaining followers again.

Truth be told, Castiel gets the worst end of the stick.

“My my my,” Balthazar purrs as Castiel walks in the morning after the interview. “Cassie, you little minx.” Castiel groans and steps around him into the back to hang up his coat and put away his laptop bag.

“I always knew you were kinky, Clarence,” Meg teases. Castiel glares at her, remembering how Meg had thrown down an article about the video and declared, “Winchester could choke me any day of the week,” when the video had first come out.

“No wonder he has such a collection of scarves,” Balthazar offers. Castiel blushes; he’s no too far off on that one.

“Does this mean we can finally see your wedding photos?” Samandriel asks and it makes Castiel smile for the first time that day.

“I can bring them tomorrow, if you’d like,” he tells Samandriel—and _only_ Samandriel. The boy smiles and nods.

Naomi comes in then to break things up then and call Castiel into her office where she stares at him from behind her desk for several moments. She doesn’t offer Castiel a seat, so he stands awkwardly in the doorway. She speaks just as the silence is getting to be too much for him.

“Tell me this isn’t going to be a problem.”

“This isn’t going to be a problem,” Castiel rushes to assure her. She closes her eyes and nods.

“You’re off circulation for the week just in case. You can use the time to plan Teen Week in the back. Now get out of here.” It’s as close to congratulations as Castiel has ever gotten from his stern boss, so he bows out of the room quickly before she can change her mind. He works on a draft until his phone rings at quitting time.

“Come outside,” Dean says and Castiel immediately obeys. He laughs, still on the phone, when the window of the limo parked outside in a tow zone rolls down and reveals his husband.

“Hop in. We lost the paparazzi and we need to celebrate it, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely, beloved.”


End file.
